Things I Almost Remember
by Theoretical-Optimist
Summary: While searching for Voldemort's horcruxes, Hermione writes her parents a series of letters. Inspired by Anastasia. Written for Bonus Round 3 of The Houses Competition.


House: Gryffindor

Bonus Theme: A letter

Prompt 1: Anastasia

Prompt 2: April 20

Word Count: 1515

Songs used as inspiration: Journey to the Past, Once Upon a December, In the Dark of the Night, At the Beginning, Paris Holds the Key (To Your Heart)

* * *

August 27, 1997

Dear Mum and Dad,

I'm writing you this letter that I know you may never read. I miss you, but you don't miss me. You don't have any idea I exist. I wanted it this way, but that doesn't make it any easier.

I doubt you will ever forgive me for what I've done. I needed to know that you were safe. I couldn't do this without knowing that I had done everything in my power to protect you.

I'm on a journey to the past. The world is once again a dark and terrifying place. I must assist Harry to bring back the light. I know it's likely a suicide mission, but I won't run from this. You raised me to be strong and to have the courage to see this through.

Your loving daughter,

Hermione

* * *

December 25, 1997

Dear Mum and Dad,

I've returned to the Forest of Dean. You brought me here once when I was a little girl. Back then, the world seemed so vast and uncomplicated. We were not burdened by war and conflict and hate. Or maybe we were and you shielded me from it?

Dad, you kept me safe and warm in your arms. Mum, you sang sweet lullabies to chase away my fears. I long to be back in your arms. To hear your voice once more and know that I belong. It was not that long ago, but feels so far away.

The sun is just beginning to rise. It's Christmas day. There's snow falling; blanketing the forest floor. It's quite beautiful. It almost feels shameful to notice something as insignificant as the silver storm of ice crystals swirling about, but it gives me hope.

Most days that hope glows so dimly, but like an ember it can be fanned back to life. I must keep that ember burning. For you. For me. For all of us.

Your loving daughter,

Hermione

* * *

April 20, 1998

Dear Mum and Dad,

I have not properly slept in over a fortnight. Every time I close my eyes I relive that day. I wake screaming and find that my nightmares are real.

I was tortured. Imagine the sensation of having a root canal performed without any Novocain or gas. The Cruciatus Curse is like that, except on every nerve ending in your body. My limbs still convulse irregularly. Weeks later and my voice is hoarse and my throat is raw. I'm lucky to have my mind intact.

I'm scarred; mentally and physically. My arm now bears a constant reminder of what I am. My neck has been gouged and no amount of healing spells or potions will ever reverse the damage.

It's worst in the dark of the night. During the day, I can pretend well enough that I am fine. But at night, the terror strikes. I long for this war to finally be over, one way or the other. Either we will win or I die. Maybe then these nightmares will cease.

Your loving daughter,

Hermione

* * *

May 3, 1998

Dear Mum and Dad,

It's over and somehow I survived. Against all odds, Harry has defeated Voldemort. Most of his followers have either been killed or apprehended. I'm certain some have fled into the winds, but they will be uncovered soon enough. Until the final death eater is located, it is not safe for me to find you. I won't be complete until I find you.

In the midst of the battle, something extraordinary has happened. I fell in love and Ron loves me in return. Perhaps it wasn't the most convenient time to start a romance with one of my best friends, but it happened.

We were strangers when this all started. Despite having been friends for six years, you can't really know someone until you live in a tent with them for nearly a year, not knowing if you'd make it out alive. We never dreamed what we'd have to go through. We were pushed together on this crazy adventure, torn apart, and forced to rebuild from devastation and betrayal.

With Voldemort gone, we can finally stand together; unafraid of the future. There are still some difficult hurdles to overcome, but I'm happy have to face them standing at this new beginning with him.

Your loving daughter,

Hermione

* * *

August 10, 1999

Mum and Dad (and Harry and Gin since I'm sure you're reading this too),

It's so bloody hot here. I feel like my skin is melting off my bones. Seriously, how do these Aussies manage? Hermione has to put about a dozen sun repelling charms on me every single day and I still look like a bright red beacon. She bought me this green goopy Muggle stuff. It feels nice when she slathers it on my skin. But I suppose that could just be because she's running her hands along my bare flesh- eh, but you probably don't need to know that.

Australia held the key to her heart. We all knew that she'd been struggling this past year, wondering where her parents were and longing to be reunited with them. She confessed to me how incomplete she felt without them in her life.

The ministry here has been almost no help- the memory charm Hermione put on her parents was so strong that they couldn't be traced through any magical means. But at least they gave us permission to use the Australian magical library and resources as much as necessary. I'm sure Hermione will be dragging me back to that library again because it's ' _Amazing Ronald. Don't you just love the smell of the old books?_ ' What I loved were the library's cooling charms.

Anyway, we finally found her parents last week. I've been giving them space during the days so she can explain what happened. She gave them the letters she wrote them during the war; it helped them understand a bit. Her dad was downright pissed at first, but her mum calmed him down.

I'm getting along with her folks pretty well. Her dad gave me a rough time for a while, but he warmed up to me when I asked him about rugby. It's a bloody brilliant sport and he offered to take me to a match tonight.

I'm going to ask for his permission to propose to Hermione. I want to marry her as soon as I can.

-Ron

* * *

August 27, 1999

Hermione, Ron, Helen, and Richard Granger were enjoying a nice quiet breakfast when small, energetic owl flew in the open window and landed gracelessly in a bowl of caesar salad.

"Pig?" Ron gently plucked his owl out of the greens.

Richard reached out to stroke the bird's head. "I remember you," he said affectionately. "Have you got some mail for us?" He removed the small envelope from the owl's grasp. "I thought your letters were usually written on parchment?" he asked and turned the red card over in his hand.

"Bloody hell-" Ron muttered.

"Language Ronald!" Hermione nagged.

"Best get this over with," Ron moaned as he opened the howler.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" screamed Molly Weasley's voice, "HOW DARE YOU GET MARRIED WITHOUT ME THERE?!"

In the background of the Howler's message, Ginny's voice could be heard saying, "They've eloped? How romantic."

"MY YOUNGEST SON GETS MARRIED AND DOESN'T THINK THAT IT IS IMPORTANT THAT HIS PARENTS BE THERE?! HOW DARE YOU!" Molly's voice then dropped into a more jovial tone at a normal volume. "Hermione dear, I don't blame you one bit. I'm so happy to hear that you've reunited with your parents. I can't wait to meet them again and welcome you all properly to the Weasley family!"

With that, the red envelope shriveled up in a puff of smoke. The four diners sat in stunned silence until Hermione piped up, "Anything you wish to tell me, Ronald?"

Ron shot a pleading look at Richard, who merely grinned in return. Ron gulped, dropped to one knee, and pulled a ring box out of his pocket. "Well, I guess the kneazle's out of the bag now. Hermione? Will you marry me?"

Hermione smiled, "Yes, Ronald." When he began to celebrate she interrupted, "But we are doing this properly. You get to be the one to tell your mother when we return to England."

"Oh bugger," he griped but was silenced when she grabbed his face and dragged him up for a kiss.

"It's a perfect ending," Helen Granger whispered to her husband.

"No," Richard responded, "It's a perfect beginning."


End file.
